


Voice Addict

by Cake_isnt_pie_sam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Incest, M/M, Phone Sex, Stanford Era, Wincest - Freeform, mentions of weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cake_isnt_pie_sam/pseuds/Cake_isnt_pie_sam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam was at Stanford, he missed Dean's voice a little more than he should've. When they finally talk, Dean has a little more than "catching up" in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voice Addict

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't own SPN or the boys. Comments are always awesome and appreciated!)

Sam missed Dean. He did. Of course he would call Dean from one of the payphones at school and then hang up when he heard Dean’s voice on the other end and he couldn’t even deny that it sounded hopeful. He did it probably twice a week, just to get him through till the next one—he was like a pathetic drug addict, hooked on his brother’s fucking _voice_.

He called one particular night, after breaking his habit for a good three weeks. He thought he kicked it, swear to god, he did. He finally caved one night— Dean’s birthday. He couldn’t stop thinking about him all damned day and by the time he got home that afternoon, he kept picking up his phone, dialing the number, and hanging up before the call could even connect. After a whole hour of doing this, he closed his eyes and finally let the call connect.

_"The number you have dialed has been disconnected or is no longer in service."_

Sam leaned forward in the chair, his breath knocked clear out of him. He dropped the phone on the floor, leaning his elbows on his knees.  
He felt pathetic.

He finally fell asleep that night, phone gripped tightly in his hand as he dreamt of the last time he saw Dean, from the back window of a grey hound, sitting on the hood of the impala with red eyes and even redder bitten lips.

He awoke to the buzzing of his phone against his palm. Out of habit he answered it, still half asleep.

"Mm?"

"Sammy," a low voice purred in his ear.

Sam smiled. He was asleep. Had to be.

"Dean," he breathed into the phone.

"Sammy, wake up. It’s my birthday. Don’t tell me you’re not having a few drinks to celebrate it for me."

Sam’s eyes opened slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. “Dean—Dean I tried calling—”

"Shh, Sam. Later," he promised, his voice dropping lower. "Sammy, what are you wearing," he asked. And he would ask the most cliche question in the history of phone conversations.

Sam’s heart leapt into his throat as he shifted on the bed, his dick twitching in sudden interest.

"Oh little brother, I’ve missed you," he purred into the phone, and Sam could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Miss you too," Sam mumbled out, pressing a hand to the sudden interest in his boxers.

"I bet you’re wearing boxers to bed, huh? Just like you used to?"

Sam couldn’t deny it, so he just nervously chuckled. Was Dean really trying to do this?

"C’mon, I remember how you used to climb into my bed when Dad was away on a case. You were always in those damned boxers. And you’d climb right on top of me," Dean said slowly, his voice breathy.

Sam tried to ignore his body’s interest in Dean’s voice, remembering exactly the way Dean’s eyes would darken every time he got turned on—would growl out a warning before flipping Sam on his back and showing him _exactly_ how it’s done. An unwarranted moan escaped Sam’s lips as his hand instinctively wrapped around his cock.

"That’s it, Sammy. You remember," Dean said. "God, Sam. I wish I was there…I could do that for you. Just like I used to."

And Sam could hear Dean’s breath come out unevenly and ragged, just like it was when he’d whisper secrets against Dean’s bare back—things he was too shy to say out loud.

"Dean," Sam breathed, tugging at himself in the dark dorm room. "You should be here," he said quietly, biting down on another moan.

"What, so I could remind you exactly how good I am at sucking dick? Is that it?" Dean growled into the phone.

And maybe Sam would later blame it on being half-asleep, but those words pushed him over the edge as he whimpered “ _DeanDeanDean_ ,” against his phone, coming right in his boxers.

But Sam could hear his brother groaning Sam’s name into the night air, so he just couldn’t even feel bad embarrassed for coming so quickly.


End file.
